AN: This chapter contains adult scenes. There is no clean version, you have been warned.
Chapter 35
Edward looked down at the pot of stew simmering on the stove. It had taken him almost an hour to prepare the dish, he had kept his movements at a human's pace allowing him time to think and time to destress. He knew that this entire situation was hard on everyone, but this past week left him feeling as though he was trying to stop a tidal wave with a dishtowel. He couldn't speed up the time it took the stew to cook and was glad for the time to himself while Bella and Angela slept upstairs. Placing the glass lid on top of the pot, he angled it so that steam could escape while keeping the bubbling pot from making a mess on the stovetop.
Three hours, he thought as he stepped into the living room and sat down. Three hours to simmer slowly. Esme's recipe card had been very specific to simmer only and not allow the stew to boil, the flavors would be richer and the meat far more tender by simmering. He dropped his head into his hands as he closed his eyes and concentrated on shutting off all of his enhanced senses in search of a single moment of silence. He sat quietly, deaf and blind to the world around him in a manner that could only be experienced by one of his kind. Five minutes later he lifted his head and nodded to himself as he reopened all of his senses.
"This too shall pass," he spoke aloud a phrase that both Esme and Carlisle had used time after time.
Standing from his seat on the couch he made his way slowly up the stairs and stepped into the open doorway of his room. Angela was still sleeping soundly, but from the rhythm of Bella's heartbeat it seemed that she would be waking soon. Moving to the bed, he sat down by her side and brushed her mussed hair gently from her face. Leaning down as her eyelids began to flutter, he kissed her forehead and sat up slowly. Her voice was little more than a whisper as she spoke his name and he smiled affectionately as he watched her lift her hands to rub the sleep from her eyes.
"Hey sweetheart," he greeted Bella as he brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek. "How are you feeling?"
"Heavy," she said with her eyes closed as she began to move. "I'm fine," she said only for Edward to chuckle.
"Try again," he told her as he watched how lethargic and clumsy her movements were. "You barely seem able to keep your eyes open. Come on," he stood and offered her his hand. "Let's get you up and moving around. I've got stew cooking downstairs; it still has a few hours before it'll be ready."
"Mm, stew," Bella hummed her appreciation of his cooking as she stood from the bed only to fall.
Edward caught her easily, shaking his head in a mixture of worry and amusement. Holding her against his side as they walked, he led her out of his room and down the hall to the bathroom. Watching the door close behind her, he returned to his bedroom and sat down beside Angela. Her heartbeat was slow, her breathing deep and even. He didn't know how long she would remain asleep, but from the sounds of it he doubted she would wake anytime soon.
"I love you, little one," he told the sleeping girl as he leaned over and kissed her forehead. "You're safe here, baby girl, I hope you know that."
His lips twisted up in a lopsided smile as he reached out for the 'Papa Bear' and tucked it into her arm. Smoothing his hand over her hair, he watched her sleep for a moment longer before standing and stepping over to the doorway. He watched Bella step out of the bathroom, her eyes at half mast making him chuckle at her drowsy expression. Wrapping his arm around her shoulder he led her downstairs and into the kitchen.
"Did you want anything to munch on?" he asked Bella as he watched her lift the lid over the stew pot and breathe in deeply. "It still has about two and half hours before it'll be ready."
"An apple is fine," Bella said, replacing the lid as she stepped toward the fruit bowl only to smile when Edward removed a large green apple and set about cutting it into slices. "You're spoiling me," she told him with a grin.
"Yes, well, this is the only time you let me spoil you, so get used to it," he returned with a grin of his own. "Did you sleep well?"
"More like heavily," Bella said as she took one of the slices from the bowl he handed to her. "I don't remember falling asleep, but it was hard to wake up. And now that I am awake I just want to go back to sleep," she said only to be silenced by a yawn.
"My fragile little human," Edward smiled and kissed her hair. "Somebody called while you were sleeping," he told her as he led her into the library. "She was hoping you would call back once you were awake," he said as he motioned for her to sit down in front of the computer, the video chat window already open but waiting for a number to be entered.
"Who?" Bella asked curiously as she looked up at him.
"Esme," he kissed her hair. "It's all ready to go, just hit the call button and she'll answer on the other end."
"Edward," Bella gripped his hand when he began to move away. "Where are you going?"
"Esme's recipe is rather specific as to when the different herbs should be added. Go ahead and talk to her, I won't be far," he promised and cupped her cheek before kissing her slowly. "I love you, Bella."
"I love you," she returned and watched him walk out of the room.
She turned her attention back to the computer in front of her and reached for the mouse. Biting her lip as she moved the cursor over to the button on the program window, she clicked on the mouse and watched as the icon in the window danced as the call rang through. She watched as the icon disappeared, the black video window fading into an image of another house and she smiled when she saw Carlisle's bowed head.
"Anything interesting?" she asked and his head came up, his worry lines smoothing out into a gentle smile as he looked at her.
"Bella," Carlisle greeted her smoothly. "How are you doing, sweetheart?"
"I'm ok," she said slowly and watched him arch a brow at her. "You know it's really not fair that you can do that," she said with a touch of amusement. "Both you and Edward have mastered that same expression."
"Yes, well he is my son," Carlisle said with a smile. "Perhaps you could explain to me why I don't quite believe that you're ok."
Bella shook her head and looked down as she tried not to let her worry show. Looking back up at the screen, she saw the look of concern in Carlisle's eyes and sighed softly.
"I suppose Edward told you," she began only to bite her lip when her uncertainty kept her silent.
"He did mention that you said you had helped someone in Angela's condition before. Would you tell me about that?" he requested and watched her shift slightly in her seat.
"It's not really something I like to talk about," she said slowly as she brought her feet up onto the chair and wrapped her arms around her legs. "It's not something I've ever talked about," she said as she looked down at her knees.
"You are safe here, Sweetheart," Carlisle told her gently, wishing that he could be there with her instead of having to talk to her through a computer. "There are no judgments, Bella. We only wish to help."
She nodded quietly, biting her lip before looking back up at his image on the screen. "I was eight," she said slowly, "when my mom met Ben. He was actually really nice, treated my mom pretty good. My mom got really attached to him really fast, she thought he was the one…"
"What happened?" Carlisle asked her gently, his soft voice brining her comfort.
"About two weeks after my ninth birthday he took off. I don't know where or why, at least I didn't at the time," Bella said shaking her head as she looked down at her knees again. "Renee completely shut down, just like Angela did. I helped her bathe, helped her dress. I fed her; I called into her job and spoke to her boss. I told them she had laryngitis that she couldn't speak but that she was sick. She was out of it like that for a week. I uh," Bella rubbed her forehead, feeling as old and equally unstable as she hand back then, her trembling hand evidence of that. "I rode my bike down to the little office that she worked at," she looked up at Carlisle without truly seeing him. "She would write these little articles about local trends from research that someone else would gather for her. She was supposed to write three articles a week, but that week I had to write them for her."
"Bella," the concern in Carlisle's voice drew her attention to his eyes. "Sweetheart, it's alright to be scared," he told her and her brow furrowed until he saw her catch sight of her shaking hand and clench her fist.
"I didn't really have time to be scared, at least that's what I told myself," Bella shook her head. "I'm fine, really."
"No, Sweetheart, you're not," Carlisle told her gently. "You were put into an impossible situation and what is happening with Angela is bringing everything back. Did you have any support back then at all?"
Bella shook her head. "I was afraid to tell anyone, besides that I didn't have anyone to call. I thought they would take me away if they knew, I thought they might take her away. It was just a week. She snapped out of it after seven days and we always acted like nothing happened, we never even spoke about it."
"Oh Bella," Carlisle studied her face. "Sweetheart," he said reading the truth of her thoughts in the expression on her face. "What happened then wasn't your fault."
"I know that," she said and shook her head.
"Do you?" he asked her. "When did you first meet Ben?" he saw her avert her gaze, the way her expression changed telling him that he had hit the mark. "Bella?" he called to her when she remained silent.
"At my party," Bella said without looking at him. "She invited him to my birthday party so that we could meet. It really wasn't much more than a fancy dinner done up at home, but she thought it was time that we officially met each other."
Carlisle sighed silently as he stared at the girl in the computer screen in front of him. He could tell exactly how much she blamed herself for her mother's breakdown, no matter how much she denied it. He hated that they were so far apart, wishing that he could be there so that he could offer her the comfort she needed. Bella was very complex, a puzzle that he was beginning to solve, especially with this new revelation. It occurred to him then as he studied the way she was sitting that the reason she was so resistant to being spoiled or taken care of was because she was so used to taking care of others that she didn't know how to let herself be taken care of.
"Bella," Carlisle's voice brought her attention back to him. "You don't look like you've been sleeping very much, or eating," he said the tone of his voice making the observation a request for more information.
"It's hard to sleep," she said softly. "I try, but…"
"And the other?" he asked gently. "You've lost weight, Bella. Not a lot, but at least five pounds."
"Is that a vampire thing?" she asked softly and the sound of his chuckle soothed her.
"No, it's a doctor thing. Haven't been hungry?"
Bella shook her head, her eyes falling away from him again. "No, I eat…sometimes; it's just not always easy to keep it down."
"How often have you been sick, when?" he asked, his mind processing the information quickly as he put the pieces together.
"Two, sometimes three times a night, always at night," she told him, her hand unconsciously moving to her stomach.
"Before or after you allow yourself time to cry?" he asked her slowly, keeping his voice soothing and soft, still she looked up at him sharply with wide eyes. "Esme," he told her gently and watched her nod.
"After usually," she said and he saw the shame in her expression that she tried to hide. "Sometimes before."
"Ok," he said softly as he looked at her. "In the desk in my office, top drawer," he told her and gave her a soft smile when she met his eyes. "There is a bottle of anti-nausea medicine. I want you to go ahead and take two of them each night, either just before or just after dinner. See if it helps you and let me know after a couple of days, ok?"
Bella nodded silently, "Thank you."
"Of course, my dear," Carlisle smiled gently, wishing he could hug her. "Is Edward there?"
"He's cooking," she said with a soft chuckle. "He's making stew. You know, for people who don't eat actual food, you sure are master chefs. How does that work?"
"I wish I had an explanation for you," Carlisle laughed. "But truly, I don't."
"Hey, Carlisle," Edward said as he stepped into the room and came up behind Bella. "Bella," he looked down at her and kissed her chastely when she tipped her head back to meet his gaze. "I put a few croissants on the counter for you."
"Croissants?" she questioned. "When did you buy those?"
"I'm fairly certain he didn't," Carlisle chuckled and watched as both Bella and Edward turned their attention to him. "I taught him how to bake them. There was a time during my study in Europe that I was fascinated by all forms of art, including baking," he admitted with a smile. "When things would get boring being stuck inside on the brighter days, I taught Edward what I had learned in France."
"Wait, fresh baked croissants?" Bella asked and looked back up at Edward to see him nod. "That isn't fair," Bella said as she rose from the chair.
"Don't forget, Bella," Carlisle reminded her before she moved away from the sight line of the webcam. "The bottle in my office," he told her and watched her nod.
Edward watched Bella leave the room before he took the seat in front of the computer and looked at Carlisle. He saw the look on his father's face and though he couldn't read a person's thoughts through a computer, he knew his father well enough to know what was on his mind. He nodded quietly; monitoring Bella's movements with his enhanced hearing before he met Carlisle's gaze once again and spoke.
"She slept for a long time today," Edward said with a relieved sigh, "almost six hours uninterrupted."
"You heard," Carlisle said and watched Edward nod. "With an event like that in her childhood, this is more upsetting to her than she is letting on. Has she had any nightmares?"
"Not that she's talking about," Edward said. "Charlie told me that she's been a 'mother hen' with Angela, completely dedicated to her care. I'm not saying that she shouldn't be, but…"
"But she should remember to take care of herself as well," Carlisle finished for him. "I'm still working here, reviewing the other patient files and going over histology reports for the ones who have died. Esme will be returning to assist you soon, earlier than either of us planned."
"Bella?" Edward asked and Carlisle nodded.
"She is concerned about her, thought that perhaps Bella needed a mother figure to talk to. How is Angela?"
"Still sleeping. I have no idea when she will awaken; her slumber is deep enough to keep her absolutely still. If I didn't have the senses that I do, I would think she was dead."
Carlisle frowned. "Watch her closely. Has she been able to take the Toradol?"
"I don't know," Edward sighed. "I don't know if Bella was able to get her to take the pill, she wasn't comfortable with the syringe. I got her to take one of the pills this morning, or at least I think she did."
"What do you mean 'you think'?" Carlisle asked curious as to his son's uncertainty.
"The only thoughts, the absolute only thoughts that I've been able to read from her is her desire to see Marcus. Each time she's been given the Toradol her thoughts aren't absent, instead she's almost…reluctant." Edward shook his head, his brow furrowing. "It doesn't make any sense. She's been more alert because she's been in school, but all of her thoughts revolve around Marcus and the place they meet in her dreams. All she wants is to go back there."
"He offers her something that we cannot," Carlisle said with wisdom.
"And what's that?" Edward asked with a confused shake of his head.
"A world without stalkers, serial killers, or abusive parents, with him, those things do not exist." Carlisle looked down at something off sight of the camera, his brow furrowing deeply. "I must go, call me if you need anything, or even just someone to talk to."
"I will," Edward said with a nod. "Thank you, Carlisle."
"Always."
The screen went black and Edward sat for a minute staring at the silent computer. Sighing softly as he stood, he moved out of the library and smiled at the sight that greeted him in the living room. Bella had fallen asleep curled up against the corner of the couch with the Edward bear tucked in her arms. Chuckling softly, he stepped over to her and kissed her hair before covering her with the light throw blanket. Tucking her hair behind her ear, he left her and walked into the kitchen to check on the stew. He shook his head with humor at the sight of the spoon lying on a folded napkin on the counter next to the stove.
"Someone's been taste testing," he said to himself as he stirred the pot and added in the last of the herbs before replacing the lid.
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Angela couldn't stop the tears from flowing, sitting down on the red couch with one of the pillows tucked into her arms; she buried her face in the softness and cried. It was the first time in days that she had felt truly safe and free. There was no danger here, no heartache, no uncertainty or pain. The couch dipped beside her, a cool arm wrapping around her shoulders as she was drawn gently against a cold stone chest and held with tender affection. She felt his hand stroke over her hair as he pressed a gentle kiss to her head.
Marcus was as equally relieved as he was worried to see that Angela had returned to him. It had been days since he had last seen her, but to have found her in this condition was unsettling. She was crying almost uncontrollably into a thick pillow, her face hidden from view and her body curled as tightly and small as she could make it. He doubted she knew that it was her true physical form that was brought here and not simply the representation of how she viewed herself. He could both see and feel that she had lost a significant amount of weight and it concerned him.
Lifting her to sit in his lap, he wrapped both arms around her and rested his cheek against her hair as he held her. Whatever stress she was under it was more intense than he had initially believed. He wanted to ask her more, wanted to know what was happening, but was hesitant to do so. He wanted this place to remain a sanctuary for her, she felt safe here and he wouldn't change that. Kissing her hair when he realized that her tears wouldn't be stopped anytime soon, he moved with her to the center of the sofa and turned to lie back against the arm of the couch. Cuddling her against his chest, he stroked her hair gently and hummed softly.
The tune held no specific rhythm, it belonged to no song that had ever been written, but he continued with the collection of notes in an effort to bring her comfort. What felt to be less than thirty minutes he knew was more than two hours, but still he held her. He didn't care if she was here all day long, he would hold her as long as she wanted; protect her in this place until she asked him not to. Tipping his head forward to kiss her brow once more, he rubbed his hand over her back and spoke to her softly, promising her that she was safe with him and that he would take care of her. He wasn't surprised when he found her to be nearing sleep, her tears slowed as she blinked drowsily and yawned deeply.
"Go to sleep, little one," he told her. "I'll be here."
:::::
His agitation was beginning to drive her mad. He wouldn't be still and the long summer days that were brighter in British Columbia than they were in Forks, kept them locked indoors during the day. If he didn't stop pacing soon she was going to throw him out of the window of their tenth floor suite and if she did that, she would be exposing them both. Sighing when she realized that he wouldn't be able to calm himself, she decided to take his anger and turn it into desire.
Standing slowly, she moved from her chair to stand in the middle of the room and began to undress. Rolling her eyes when she was standing completely nude save for her five inch heels only to find him to still be pacing, she cleared her throat. Sighing loudly when that didn't work, Rosalie brushed her hair back over her shoulders and stepped up to her husband. She moved quickly, undoing his belt and pulling it from the loops of his pants with one quick tug. He turned to her then, his steps stopping as he looked at her in question only for his mouth to fall open as his eyes darkened with desire.
"Rosalie," Emmett breathed out her name as he stared at his wife.
She was beautiful, absolutely glorious. His angel was standing with only her flawless skin for dressing, her crimson heels adding height and accentuating the delicate flowing lines of her never ending legs. The curtains that had been carefully closed so that only a few inches hung open, allowed just enough of the bright rays of direct sunlight into the room to illuminate her skin in myriad of shimmers and fragmented light. She didn't look dangerous at that moment in time; to him she looked to be a fairy or a creature of legend, an angel or siren come to make his every dream come true.
He couldn't stay away from her a moment longer. He took in a deep breath, smelling the heady musk of her arousal, the sweetness of the venom that replaced her bodily fluids flowing thick and free from between her legs. He needed her, desperately. His hands pulled at his clothes, his strength shredding the delicate fabric into nothing but bits of cloth too torn to recognize. He was in front of her in less time than it took for her to draw in a breath, his hands cupping her face as his mouth fell upon hers, hungry and demanding with the force of his desire.
"We will find him," she promised him, whispering against his lips when he broke their embrace. "But we can't leave until it's dark, so we should do something…constructive with our time."
"God I love you," he told her as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the giant bed.
He laid her down on the bed, standing back as he studied the curves of her body, the graceful arcs and gentle dips and hollows that made his lust burn brightly within him. She was perfect, absolutely perfect.
"Stop staring, McCarty and make love to me," she told him, her hands gliding down over her breasts and across her stomach only to tease as her fingertips grazed the triangle of hair at the juncture of her legs. "Before I start without you."
Her words and actions had the desired effect as he knelt on the bed and covered her body with his. His mouth returned to hers, his teeth nibbling at her lips, his tongue pulsing against her plump delicate flesh before begging entrance to her mouth. She gasped, moving against him only to moan when she felt his hand slip between her legs. She cried out when his fingers dipped between her folds, parting her to rub against her sensitive nub. His hardness was pressing against her thigh, her desire climbing with each brush of his fingers, every touch of his tongue twisting with hers.
She cried out when his finger entered her, tearing her mouth from his as she took in deep breaths, whimpering excitedly as he added another finger into her slick channel. His hand that had been fisted in her golden locks moved down, slipping over her shoulder only to cup her breast. He massaged her pillowing mound gently, his thumb rubbing back and forth over her puckered nipple as he drove her closer and closer to orgasm. He knew that she was close, just moments away from exploding when he stopped.
"Emmett!" she growled in frustration, her hands slapping onto his shoulders when he denied her and remained completely still. "Damnit, Emmett, I hate it when you do this."
"You know what I want," he purred against her neck as he ran his tongue along the curve of her throat, following the line of her carotid artery up from her collar bone to the bottom curve of her ear.
"I'm not saying it," she denied him, pushing against him only for him to catch both of her hands and hold them above her head with one hand at her wrists.
"Say it," he told her, his hand stroking down her side but never touching her where she wanted him to.
"No," she growled, the glint in her dark eyes full of passion and playfulness.
"Yes," he whispered enticingly as he scraped his teeth against her neck and rocked his hardness against her thigh. "You want more, don't you?"
She growled at him, tried to roll him over, but he was too strong for her. His tongue traced the shell of her ear, causing delicious shivers to race through her body, but still he denied her more. She tried to move down, tried to pull him closer by wrapping her legs around his back, but he refused to move.
"Say it and I'll give you what you want," he purred into her ear, nibbling on her lobe and flicking his tongue against her flesh held trapped between his teeth. "Say it," he purred again, his smile devious and charming all at once.
"I never should have said to you on our first honeymoon. It only encouraged you," she told him, tugging one of her bound hands free and emphasizing her words with a frustrated punch to his shoulder.
"Say it," he chuckled at her.
"You are my Adonis, the very symbol of manhood," she said and rolled her eyes. "Happy?" she asked teasingly.
"You tell me," he asked her as he entered her. "Do I feel happy?"
"God," Rosalie gasped as she threw her head back against the pillow and cried out as he moved within her. "Yes!" she growled as she moved against him, increasing their pace as she moved against him. "Stop holding back, McCarty," she demanded only to growl when he chuckled.
"Don't rush me, Rosie," he purred and dipped his head to draw his tongue across her chest from one breast to the other. "I want to take my time."
"Well I don't," she said and put all her force behind rolling them so that she was on top of him. "You can take your time once we've finished this one," she said as she rode him fast and hard. "But right now, I want what you denied me earlier."
Emmett's lips were pulled back in a passionate smile as he held onto her hips, thrusting up against her as she slammed herself down on him. He groaned in delight, his eyes black as pitch with his passion when she rolled her hips, before crying out as she tightened around him. He pushed back up against her, once, twice, before exploding within her. Collapsing onto his chest as she panted, Rosalie lay still and sated only to laugh when he rolled them over and pinned her to the mattress.
"My turn," he told her with a teasing grin.
"Well, we only have three hours till sunset," she told him with a sigh. "Make it snappy," she said with a flick of her wrist only to shriek and giggle when his fingers danced against her sides below her ribs. "Damnit that's not fair. I hate that I'm still ticklish," she laughed as he continued his assault.
"Your little quirks are why I love you so much, Mrs. McCarty," he told her using her true married name.
"I love you," she told him sincerely, her hands cupping his cheeks as she stared into his eyes. "I love you," she told him again as she kissed his lips softly. "We will find him," she promised him. "We will protect Angela, we will protect our family."
"Yes we will, my love. Yes, we will."
:::::
"Edward," Bella called his name knowing that he would hear her no matter that he was downstairs in the kitchen. "She's not waking up," Bella told him once he appeared in the open doorway of his room. "I've tried calling to her, shaking her, tapping her cheeks, nothing works. Why isn't she waking up?"
"I don't know," he said as he came to her side and sat down next to her. "Angela," he called out to her as he took her wrist in his hand and checked her pulse. "Her pulse hasn't changed, it's still slow, really slow."
"How slow?" Bella asked unable to keep her voice from trembling slightly.
"Fifty beats per minute, less than her normal sleeping rhythm. She shouldn't still be asleep, I need to - " his voice dropped off as he took his ringing cell phone from his pocket and stood from the bed, moving across the room to answer it. "Eleazar, please tell me you have an answer to what is going on," Edward said as he stood in front of the window and looked back at his human sister lying still in his bed. "I can't get Angela to wake up."
"She's not sleeping sleeping," Eleazar said and Edward rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, you're going to have to explain that one a little bit better," he said as he returned to Angela's side and sat on the bed.
"It's part of her talent," Eleazar said with a sigh. "I didn't want to elaborate on any of what she can do until it was necessary. Carmen and I took Michael hunting or I would have called sooner. You've heard of astral projection," he said and waited for Edward's grunt of confirmation. "Her power to call you to her it's not limited to just that. She can call people to her for protection or the simple desire of their presence, distance doesn't matter, but she can also enter their minds in a sense. It's astral projection mixed with a kind of lucid dreaming. She finds them on a spiritual level and communes with them on a plane that cannot be seen or touched by anyone else. While she's human it's in her dreams, when she becomes one of us…I don't know exactly how it will work then. I told her about Marcus to see if her talent was that powerful while she is human. There is one drawback, though."
"And what would that be?"
"It takes an incredible amount of power as it is very stressful on her mind."
"Meaning?" Edward asked as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"It is quite possible that when she wakes up, she will have one hell of a migraine. It also means that her migraine medicine may block her from using that part of her talent."
"But I've been giving her the medicine," Edward denied his thesis.
"Has she been taking it?" Eleazar asked. "You need to make absolutely certain that she has. For what Alice told me of her condition before now, if she was shutting herself away from the waking world that much, than she should've been in her dream world long before now. You're going to need to let her wake up on her own, forcing her out can be dangerous until she learns better how to control it."
"Damnit," Edward sighed and thanked Eleazar for the information before ending the call.
"Edward?" Bella asked him with a concerned frown.
"She's with Marcus, at least that's what Eleazar believes. While I was away hunting, were you able to get her to take her medicine?"
"I tried," Bella shook her head, tears filling her eyes. "I was afraid of hurting her or chocking her if I tried to force it into her."
"Ok," Edward nodded and rubbed his hands over Bella's arms. "Don't worry, love, this isn't your fault. She's fine, or she will be as soon as we get her to wake up and eat something. Don't blame yourself, Bella," he told her when he saw the look in her eyes. "Don't, Sweetheart, don't go borrowing trouble."
"He won't hurt her?" she asked Edward.
"No," Edward shook his head and smiled. "From what Eleazar told Carlisle, he's fairly certain that Marcus won't hurt her. We're just worried because she is a human that knows about our kind. We don't know if he's told anyone about his…visits with her."
Bella looked down at Angela, feeling as though she should have known that something was wrong before now. She stood from the bed, moving away as blood rushed madly in her ears, the pounding of her heart too loud and too fast for her to hear anything else. Her head was spinning, spots dancing before her eyes. Her vision was blurred as she watched Edward move toward her. She could see his lips moving but couldn't hear a word he said when suddenly her world went black.
"Bella!" Edward called her name as he caught her when she fainted.
"It seems I returned just in time," Esme said from the doorway. "I was already on a plane when you spoke with Carlisle. Tell me everything, Edward. What's going on?"
Edward could feel his muscles trembling as he looked at his adopted mother unable to remember a time that he had felt more grateful or happier for her presence. He carried Bella to the bed and laid her down gently before sitting next to her on the bed. He felt unstable and when Esme moved closer, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, he felt the damn break.
"Shh," Esme soothed her son as he cried tearless and silent in her arms. "It's alright, I'm here now," she promised him and petted his hair.
"I'm alright," Edward said a moment later as he pulled back.
"You and your father are more alike than you'd like to believe," Esme chuckled softly. "Come on, I turned off the stove when I came in. We should at least divvy it up into containers while we wait for these two to wake up. You can tell me what's been happening while we've been gone and where Alice and Jasper are."
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Angela's eyes fluttered open softly at the feeling of cool lips on her forehead and she looked up into Marcus' crimson eyes. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she brought her loosely fisted hand up to rub at her eyes. Frowning prettily as she sat up, she looked at his concerned face, wondering why he was sitting on the low table in front of the couch rather than on the couch with her. The last memory that she had was of her falling asleep in his arms.
"Marcus?" she asked as he moved to sit beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "How long was I asleep?"
"A very long time, though not long at all," he said and she turned her confused gaze on him.
"Did I hit my head or are you speaking in riddles?" Angela asked and for the first time she could ever remember, Marcus chuckled.
"You didn't hit your head," he told her and smoothed his hand down over her hair. "Time passes differently here. In this place you haven't been asleep very long, but in the waking world you've been asleep for close to twelve hours. You haven't been sleeping much out there have you?"
"Not so much, no," she admitted quietly.
"I would like to stay here longer with you, but I must return for a little while," he smoothed his hand down over her hair.
Marcus sighed softly as he held her against his side. He didn't want to leave her or this place, but he had to. He knew that the cruise ship would be docking soon and if one of the staff found him, he would most likely find himself waking up in a morgue. Kissing her hair and telling her that he had to leave, he promised her that he would return as soon as he could. He hoped that she would return to the waking world while he was gone, but something told him that she might not.
Angela watched him disappear before she scooted back down to lie on the sofa. She was still exhausted and she hoped that sleep here would equal feeling rested when she was awake in the real world. Tucking the pillow beneath her head and slipping one hand beneath it as she curled on her side, she closed her eyes and let herself drift back into a peaceful slumber.
:::::
Carlisle looked up from his desk inside the silent Manhattan home they kept. Though he didn't need the lights, nor the warmth the fire provided, he took comfort in the soft golden-red glow emanating from the stone fireplace on the left hand side of the room. The crackling of the wood and smell of the cedar burning was familiar, something that reminded him of his human childhood and the time he had spent in France and Spain in his early years of this immortal life. He released a deep slow breath as he heard the fax machine in the library beep, signaling that the final page of the document had completed printing and stood to retrieve it.
He missed Esme. It had been a decision made by them both for her to return to Forks, even if it was just for a short while, but the empty house was too quiet now with her gone. No other lights in the large house, more reasonably referred to as chalet or mansion, were turned on but his inhuman eyes didn't need the light to see by. Stepping across the polished natural wood floors, he walked into the library and stepped over to the dedicated fax machine. There were twenty papers in all, minus the cover page and Carlisle looked down with sadness and regret at the detailed autopsy report he held in his hands. The patient he had come to see, the woman whose history of migraines was very similar to Angela's, had died early that morning and it was his hope that the autopsy and histology reports he now held would be able to answer the questions that her medical files had been unable to.
His steps were slow as he walked back through the house and his right hand fell from the papers he held to the pocket of his khaki slacks as he gracefully retrieved his ringing cell phone. He didn't look at the caller ID before answering the call and bringing the device to his ear, but felt a great sense of comfort at the welcoming sound of his wife's sweet alto voice. Breathing in slowly, he responded to her warm greeting and spoke to her of the love he felt for her. Setting the document in his left hand down on his desk, he moved to the black stuffed chair that sat near the fireplace and took a seat in front of the burning logs, the red, orange, and golden light casting a myriad of colors and shadows upon his alabaster skin.
"How are the children?" he asked her softly his body molding to the soft curves of the chair as he relaxed into it.
"I'm honestly not certain how to respond to that question," Esme told him and his brow furrowed. "It seems that I came back just in time. Edward and Bella are out right now, she went to see Charlie and Mrs. Newton, he went with her. Angela's still unconscious, her breathing rate hasn't changed at all," she told him and brought him up to speed on what Eleazar had told Edward regarding Angela's ability to communicate through dreams. "When I came into the house," she told him, her voice worried and sad, "I saw Bella collapse, just faint dead away in Edward's arms. That poor child doesn't look like she's eaten much at all and despite the sleep she got earlier; it doesn't look like it was nearly enough to replace all the sleep she lost."
Carlisle sighed softly, his desire to be there to help his family warring with his responsibility and need to gain answers to help Angela survive her migraines until he could change her. He spoke softly, his words filled with fatherly concern as he told Esme of the conversation he had with Bella during the time that she was on her flight. He heard the soft sound she made, something between a moan and a sigh as she mourned the pain and confusion that Bella had suffered in her childhood and was suffering once again due to the memories being reawakened with Angela. Promising him that she would talk with their human daughter, their son's mate, she spoke to him of Edward's breakdown and his fight to stay strong.
"Have they heard anything from Alice or Jasper?" Carlisle asked as he tossed another log into the fire and broke away the wood ashes from the cedar logs with the black iron poker.
"From what Edward has told me, Alice is still trying to convince Jasper to return, but Eleazar is helping him through a few exercises to assist in controlling his bloodlust," Esme told him and he could hear the sounds of the laundry machine in the background. "Alice believes that they will help Jasper, by himself, but doesn't know how effective they will be when he is feeling everyone else's bloodlust as well. Angela is…she has lost a significant amount of weight," she said with a worried sigh. "She looks thinner now than she did when she first came to live with us. If we are unable to get her to eat soon…"
"If it comes to that, have Edward insert a feeding tube," Carlisle said reluctantly. "I don't like the idea of it, but it may be our only option."
"Have you heard from Emmett or Rosalie yet?" she asked in return and from the sound difference he knew that she had placed the call on speaker.
"Not in last three hours," he responded. "It finally grew dark enough that they were able to begin their hunt for him once again, but they are still having trouble finding a fresh trail. It seems that the strongest of his scents have led them back to an abandoned school building, but he was nowhere to be found. I know they plan to go to the city library tomorrow to see if there are any underground passages that he might be using, but the possibility that he may have already begun his journey back to Washington is too big to ignore."
"I have half a mind to ask Jasper to call upon the aid of Peter and Charlotte. I want him taken care of, not just locked up," she nearly growled and he could hear her sorrow underneath the anger.
"Believe me, Esme, I have given thought to that myself, but I cannot condone the taking of a human life. Not even one as dark as he is. Angela needs to feel safe and our family needs the assurance and sanity that his incarceration will bring."
"They've been there nearly two weeks already," she reminded him. "How much longer before we call them home?"
"Two more weeks," he told her. "I want to give them at least a month to complete their hunt and if they are unable to find him in that time, then I will call them home."
"I feel so helpless," she told him and he heard the soft scraping of wood as she opened dresser drawers and put the folded clothes away.
"I know, my love. We all do. This time is not easy on any of us. Let us hope that Marcus can offer Angela the safety she needs to feel in order to return to us."
"I love you," she whispered to him, her voice thick with all the emotions that burdened her heart.
"And I love you, my beautiful wife. Take care of our children."
"I will. Take care of yourself, Carlisle. I truly do not like you being there alone. You need family with you, especially at a time like this," she told him and he smiled despite his heavy heart.
"I will be fine, Esme. Call me as much as you like, the others as well. I am always here for all of you, remember that."
"I will, I do," she told him. "I will talk with you later, my love."
"Be well, my love. Goodnight."
Carlisle looked down at his silent phone for a moment, debating with himself of whether or not to call Emmett for an update, before reluctantly tucking the device back into his pocket. Any sound could compromise their position and he had no wish to spook the man they were after if his children were closing in on his position. They would call him in the morning, as they had each day since their arrival in Vancouver, to update him on the results of their hunt. He stared into the fire a moment longer, allowing his mind to be free for a little while as he sat in peaceful meditation. As the dancing flames began to soothe him into a state of absent thought, his relaxed mind made a startling connection that he hadn't seen before.
Standing quickly, he was at his desk within a fraction of a second and searching through the files on the wood surface until he came to the films he was looking for. Turning on the small wall unit that he had installed to view X-rays and MRIs, he hung two films side by side and nearly cursed at the parallel he had missed before. The film on the left was the film taken of a woman who had died as a result of multiple and prolonged electro-shock treatments, the film on the left was taken yesterday evening from the patient he had come to see. The damage was almost exactly the same. Without thinking about the time, or what the man could possibly be working on, he called the doctor he had been collaborating with. It didn't matter that he had only reached the man's voicemail; he left a message with a vague description of his findings along with the promise for a more detailed explanation and report that he would bring the following day.
He set his cell phone down on the desktop and leaned against the edge of the wood furniture as he studied the films. It seemed to him that the only difference between the brain damage was the direction from which it originated. On the left, the damage was clearly beginning at the outside of the brain working its way in, while the scan on the left showed the internal damage being the worst while radiating outward. It made a certain kind of macabre sense to him. Migraines were technically an electrical imbalance, a misfiring of neurons that resulted in excruciating pain and in the worst cases, brain damage. The elation of the discovery left him in a rush, replaced instead by the hopeless despair of the meaning.
"You can't treat the brain damage caused by electro-shock treatments," he said aloud to himself. "Please, please let the damage caused by the migraines be different."
Carlisle left the films up on the lighted board as he gathered the notes and pathology reports he had collected since being in New York, as well as a few medical texts from the shelves behind him that were specific to brain trauma. If he could compile the notes, compare everything that he knew personally from his vast centuries of experience as well as what the books and reports said, then maybe, just maybe he could find an answer to a possible treatment. He felt as driven as Dr. Ramanajan was, though instead of his passion being for answers and a possible award from the America Medical Association, his reasons for the search for answers was personal. He would study whatever he needed to in order to take away her pain and make certain that she stayed alive long enough for him to change her. In every way that mattered, Angela was his daughter, and in a year or less she truly would be his immortal daughter.
:::::
Esme sighed softly as she sat next to Angela's still body and smoothed her hair against the pillow. Bending down to kiss the girl's forehead, she stroked her cheek before rising from the bed. It had officially been two days now that Angela remained asleep. No amount of gentle prodding was able to wake her and Eleazar had cautioned against heavier measures. Stepping out of the room, she walked down the stairs and greeted Bella as she walked in the front door with Edward. She was still thin, still needed to gain a little bit of weight, but she seemed to be doing a lot better.
Edward chuckled softly and nodded to Esme before he stepped aside and told Bella that he would see her later. She frowned in question at him, but the only thing he did was kiss her before stepping out of the room. Turning back to glance at Esme, she saw the soft smile on the woman's face and knew that it was her thoughts Edward had been responding to.
"There's a nice little bookstore in Seattle I thought we could go to," Esme told her. "Have a little time to just us girls and give you a chance to look for something new to read if you'd like."
Bella nodded, sticking her hand into her back pocket to feel for the twenty dollar bill she had tucked away. It was the only spare money that she had as her part time job at the sporting goods store had been cut short when she had taken time off to help with Angela. When she had gone in yesterday to speak with Mrs. Newton, the woman had kindly informed her that Charlie had given her a vague idea of what was going on and told Bella to take off as much time as she needed. She appreciated the gesture, was grateful for the woman's kindness, but it left her without much if any spending money of her own.
"Stop worrying," Esme told Bella with a grin as they got into Carlisle's Mercedes. "I'm going to pull an Alice on you today."
"Meaning you're not going to let me buy anything with my own money," Bella said with a half amused snort.
"Precisely," Esme said with a nod as she pulled onto the highway, the speedometer reading eighty-five before they'd gotten two miles down the stretch of interstate. "It is the one time when I am not going to give you a choice about being spoiled. You need this time away, plus you need to talk. I know how scared you are, Bella, it's in your eyes all the time, especially when you look at Angela. What's happening with her is not your fault," Esme promised her.
Bella looked down at her hands folded in her lap. She wanted to believe Esme's assurances, but the fact of the matter was it had been her blood that set off Jasper. If she hadn't gotten that cut none of this would have happened. The bandage was gone from her finger now, but the faint pink line was still there and it seemed to be further proof that she was to blame. Esme looked over at Bella, saw that she was looking at the hand she had cut on the wrapping paper and reached out, covering the girl's warm hands with one of her own.
"Sweetheart, don't. This wasn't your fault, Bella," Esme promised her gently. "I know that it probably feels like it was, but you're not to blame. No one is."
Bella bit her lip as she looked up at Esme. "I try to remember that and on some level I know that it wasn't my fault, but it…"
"It feels like it is," Esme finished for her with a nod of understanding. "I talked with Carlisle while you were out," she told her as she pulled off the highway and into the busy traffic of downtown Seattle.
"He told you?" Bella asked, though she was fairly certain she knew the answer.
"Yes," Esme said as she turned off the car and turned in her seat to give Bella her full attention. "Please don't be upset with him. We're both worried about you, Sweetheart. You were so young when that happened with your mother and an unfair amount of responsibility was placed on you. We're both here for you, whatever you need," she promised the girl.
Bella blushed and nodded her gratitude as she and Esme stepped out of the car. Laughing softly when Esme wrapped her arm around her shoulders and brought her close to her side, Bella walked with her through the covered parking structure and into the shopping mall. She loved Renee, Bella thought, but Esme was the one who truly felt like a mother to her. Growing up with Renee had been fun and was always an adventure, but it was she who had to be responsible and remind her mother when the bills needed to be paid or when they needed to go shopping. Bella had been the adult, or at least that's what it had felt like.
"Are you alright?" Esme asked Bella as she led her into the used and new book store.
"I'm fine," Bella answered her as she drifted into one of the aisles to look at the collection of used books. "Old memories," she said when she caught Esme's curious stare. "Renee, my mom, she's always been impulsive, more about fun and adventure than anything else. 'Live life to its fullest and enjoy it while you can' was what she always used to say while I was growing up. But she didn't have such a great memory for the little things," Bella told her as she looked at the book and felt soothed by Esme's gentle touch when she combed her fingers through the lowest part of her long hair.
"You took care of her," Esme said as she watched Bella set the book back down before moving onto another one. "That's why it's so hard for you to allow anyone to spoil you, isn't it?" she asked Bella and watched her cheeks color in a soft blush. "You've always taken care of everyone else. When was the first time that anyone actually took care of you?"
"I was already pretty much past needing anyone to take care of me when I moved in with Charlie and - "
"Bella, you're avoiding the question," Esme told her as she tucked her hair behind her ear.
Bella blushed again as she set the book down before meeting Esme's gaze.
"Edward, you and your family," Bella admitted softly, her blush darkening as her dark eyes falling to the side. "It's fine," Bella stammered, moving to pick up another book as she tried to avoid the uncomfortable subject. "I've always been fairly self sufficient."
Esme shook her head and sighed softly before wrapping Bella up in a gentle hug. Stepping back and smiling at her, Esme turned to the books and asked Bella if there was any genre she was particular to. She smiled at the sight of the girl's blush and nodded when she admitted her preference for eighteenth and nineteenth century romantic literature by female authors.
"Let's find you a book," Esme said with a smile.
:::::
Emmett looked at the building in front of them, his brow furrowing as he looked back at Rosalie. This couldn't be right, he thought as he stared at the place in front of them. It had rained just before sundown and hadn't stopped until a few moments ago; making it difficult to track the man's scent but this was where it led to.
"It's a school," Emmett said to Rosalie as she stepped up to the doors.
"An abandoned school," she said as she looked around before pulling the locked door open, nearly tearing it from its hinges. "Come on, Emmett. Let's find this guy and go home."
Emmett followed her inside the dark building, their eyes seeing perfectly in the absence of light. Their steps were soundless, their movements unseen as they slipped down the halls, looking into each room they passed. His scent was here, it was thick in the halls telling them that the man they were hunting had just been there, but there was no sign of him anywhere. Rosalie stilled, her eyes growing wide before she shot down the hall, Emmett following along behind her as the scent grew stronger. The lock on the door leading into the basement broke easily under her vampire strength and Rosalie flew down the stairs too fast for anyone but Emmett to follow her movements.
"It's at least two weeks old," Emmett said as he looked at the dried blood on the floor. "This is definitely where he killed the child, but apparently not where they found her body."
"What the hell is wrong with him that he can do this?!" Rosalie raged as she felt her desire to spill the man's blood reawakened.
"I don't know," Emmett said tightly, his voice thick with equal amounts of anger and protectiveness. "We need to find him. He's obviously not here now, but he was here sometime today. He's too good at covering his tracks. Every time we've tracked his scent to a hotel, the room has already been scrubbed to a hospital level of clean and the motels themselves are seedy little holes that no one cares enough to clean with that amount of detail."
"Emmett," Rosalie's voice was thick with trepidation and he stepped across the room to where she stood looking into an open closet. "I think he found a new target."
"Oh god no," Emmett whispered as he stepped into the room and looked at the small collection of photos lining the section of wall.
Less than thirty pictures in all, the images were taken from a distance and focused on another girl. She couldn't be much older than seven in his estimation and when he reached out and took a photo in the middle from the wall, his eyes widened at the name written in black ink on her backpack. Angelica Williams. He was hunting down another child with initials that matched Angela's. This sick bastard was killing children and trying to use their deaths to draw their sister out. Growling low, he instructed Rosalie to make certain that she had the address written down. They may not be able to find him at the current moment, but they could call in Special Agent Mitchells and let her know of the new development.
"Hello," came the distracted female tone and Emmett frowned at the exhaustion in her voice.
"Hi, is this Agent Caleigh Mitchells?" Emmett greeted, though he already knew the answer.
"Yes, how can I – wait I know your voice, you're Angela's brother, yes? Emmett, correct?" she sounded a touch more alert.
"Yes, ma'am," he said with a nod and looked at Rosalie. "We hired a private eye in B.C.," he told her, shrugging at Rosalie's sour expression, his own movements and expression asking her without words what it was that she expected him to tell the FBI agent. "We didn't give him your direct contact information, we weren't sure if he would find anything before you did. He told us that he found an abandoned school you might want to look into. He thinks this guy might have another target lined up," he said and listened to Rosalie as she spoke to him on a level that only their kind could hear. Relaying the address of the school to the woman on the phone, he looked at the picture in his hand before replacing it on the wall. "He told us that the child's name is Angelica Williams."
"Thank you," she said to him quickly. "I'm not too far away from there. I'll let you know what's happened with Angelica as soon as I find her. And Emmett," she said and he found himself floored by her next words. "Get out of that school before I come down there. I'll be bringing a full forensics team with me."
The call disconnected and Emmett looked at the device with wide eyes. How had she known? He glanced up at Rosalie and watched her shrug. She didn't have any better answer than he did, though she did remember something Alice had told her after they first met the FBI agents. Following behind Emmett as they left the school too fast to be seen, she informed him that Alice had told her Caleigh held her own bit of natural psychic powers. She wasn't sure how they worked, but Alice had assured her that the woman was far more gifted than she wished to believe, the human woman fighting her own talent.
"Well," Rosalie said as they slowed their pace once they were three blocks away from the school. "If we can't find anything, maybe she can. After all, they don't have the same restrictions that we do."
"I hope for that little girl's sake they find him before he finds her," Emmett said only to stop and look around.
"What is it?" Rosalie asked him.
"Take a deep breath," he told her as he looked around.
"He's here," Rosalie said with wide eyes. "The scent is fresh, he was just here."
"Yeah, but it disappears," he said as he looked around trying to determine where the man had gone. "Even if he's using a car we should still be able to track him."
"Maybe he's not using a car," Rosalie said and looked to their left, pointing out the ladder attached to the exterior of the building. "Maybe he's going across the rooftops."
"But he's human," Emmett frowned, looking around them to make certain there were no cameras or human eyes to see them before he and Rosalie jumped up to the roof. "You were right," he told Rosalie with a predatory smile. "He's using the rooftops. He knows he's being tracked."
"I highly doubt he knows what we are," she said as she fell into the thrill of the hunt alongside her husband.
"We're close," he told her with a dark chuckle. "We're very close."
:::::
Esme pulled Bella close for a hug before stepping away and doing the same to Edward. Gathering her purse, she promised them to return shortly, but only after making Bella promise to eat something more than the small salad she'd had earlier. The kitchen needed to be restocked, her assessment of the vegetables and fruits telling her that they needed to be replaced. Leaning against Edward as she watched her leave, Bella blinked heavily before a wide yawn escaped her.
"Come on you," Edward said, swinging Bella up into his arms before she had a chance to protest. "You need a nap and then I'll make you some dinner."
"You're spoiling me again," she said, too tired to offer more than the half-hearted protest.
"Damn right I am," he told her, watching as her eyes fell closed before he had entered his bedroom. "Sleep as long as you like," he told her as he laid her down gently on the bed and covered her with the blankets. "I'll help you with our homework later."
"M'kay," Bella mumbled drowsily as she rolled onto her side and buried her face in the pillow.
"I love you," he whispered to her and kissed her temple before leaving her to sleep.
Four days, Edward thought as he moved down into the kitchen, smiling at the sight of the polished counters. Angela had been in her deep, almost comatose sleep, for four days now and it worried him that he wasn't certain when she would awaken. Moving through the house, he shook his head at the sight of all the cleaning Esme had done while he and Bella had been at school. He had maintained the house well, but he knew that Esme always preferred to go over the house herself from top to bottom, whether or not someone else had already cleaned it.
Opening the door of the fridge he chuckled softly at the sight of the shelves. Anything that had the possibility of being questionable had been removed, the shelves and doors scrubbed until they shined. She wasn't about to let Bella have anything that could be remotely unhealthy for her, not in her current state, though he did have to smile at the sight of the single pint of Green Tea ice cream that sat in the freezer. Shaking his head with amusement as he closed the freezer door, he spun around at the sound of Bella's voice calling out to him from upstairs.
His mouth fell slack, his eyes growing impossibly wide at what she said and he shot through the house moving as fast as he dared in his need to see the truth of her words. He was standing in his bedroom in a matter of seconds and looking down at the bed with wide eyes. He felt at a loss for words, his voice unable to make any sound as he ghosted to the bed and sat down beside Angela. Her eyes were fluttering gently and when her brown eyes, full of exhaustion, came to rest on him he nearly cried.
Edward? Angela spoke his name in her thoughts and he drew in a shaking breath as he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. Smiling brightly even as he felt the need to cry in the waves of relief and elation coursing through him, he begged her to do it again.
What do you want me to say? she asked and he hugged her as tightly as he dared. I really need a human moment, she thought with a touch of embarrassment and he chuckled as he lifted her into the cradle of his arms and stood from the bed.
"Go on," he told her as he set her on her feet next to the bathroom and watched her disappear inside. Taking the phone from his pocket, he dialed Carlisle's phone, his hands trembling when he heard his father's voice answer the call. "She's awake, Carlisle," he told his father and heard the relief in the man's voice. "She's awake…and she's talking. She's back, we have her back."